


Darker Passions: Secrets and Lies

by Ribby



Category: The Prestige
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-01-31
Updated: 2007-01-31
Packaged: 2017-10-15 10:47:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/160064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ribby/pseuds/Ribby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alfred Borden has a secret.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Darker Passions: Secrets and Lies

**Author's Note:**

> This was sparked by [](http://jou.livejournal.com/profile)[**jou**](http://jou.livejournal.com/)'s wonderful drawing [Messages](http://jou.livejournal.com/172474.html#cutid1), and by a comment I made to her wonderful fic [Melting](http://replicating.livejournal.com/5757.html). I'm a little surprised with the direction this went; I hadn't intended it to be quite so dark, but apparently my Fallon muse had other ideas. *shiver*

  
Alfred Borden had a secret. One that he held from everyone he knew, everyone he loved.

**********

I. Lust

It had begun as a lark, a way to choose who got to do which part of the act--hearts got Julia's hands, diamonds her ankles. Somehow Angier *always* ended up with diamonds.

But once their relationship had taken root and developed, they realized that they needed a means to communicate, some way to secretly show each other they were needed. So Angier's card was the King of Hearts--and Borden's the ace. Out walking, passing each other, one card would flash "need you" the other "you have me".

What had begun as a way to let off steam after a performance had become as necessary to them as breathing. Passionate men both of them, with tempers to match--and a gentlemen would never treat his wife so. But with each other, the gloves were off--with sometimes painful, though always pleasurable results. What passion they could not expend upon their wives, lust spiced with pleasure and pain, they could expend upon each other.

And expend they did--usually in Borden's workrooms, but occasionally in Angier's. They would meet, taut with anger, or frustration, or even simple arousal. It was always a battle, for neither man was the type to surrender easily; bruises and small wounds were common. But the pleasure they gave each other with hands, lips, mouths, and cocks far outweighed the pain... and in their most extreme moments, those small pains became another source of pleasure.

Equally pleasurable, though, was the aftermath, when they lay sated and spent in each other's arms, nothing but the sweet lassitude of satisfaction in their minds. Only with each other could they find such contentment--for only each other could understand.

And if Borden held his time with Angier close to his heart, and told no-one of their meetings, not even his own brother, well, that was his affair, and no other's.

  
II. Jealousy/Anger

  
Yet this, in its way, was harder to keep a secret than even Borden's lifelong one. He could explain away the swollen lip, bitten to keep from screaming his pleasure as Angier took him, rough friction a painful pleasure all its own. He could explain away the bruises on his arms, from Angier's hands clamping down in the throes of orgasm as Borden drew it from him with lips and tongue and teeth. But the absence of these things, well before they could have healed, he could not explain--for to do so would be to betray his brother, and himself.

And so his workroom began to ring with raised voices, the sound of his flesh colliding painfully with his twin's, as Borden sought to duplicate the injuries raised by passion with rage. His brother bore it, though not without inflicting a few new injuries; but his brother's temper, like his, had a short fuse and a quick breaking point. And Freddie saw much and kept quiet; until that night when all came to a head.

Alfred had stumbled into his workrooms, aching still from Angier's vigorous fucking, and from the pain of their separation, his lips swollen from kisses. Before he could get further than the door, his brother had pinned him against it, slamming the door closed.

"No more fights--tell me how you come to be so bruised and battered," Freddie growled at him.

Alfred hesitated. Could he break one confidence to save another, stronger one?

"Tell me!" Freddie snarled, his hands tightening on Alfred's arms, just over bruises made by Angier's hands. The pain of it made Alfred cry out, and he gasped, "Angier!"

Startled, Freddie's grip loosened, and Alfred slipped loose, but not quickly enough, for Freddie was stronger and quicker than his brother, and soon had him pinned again. Alfred could not meet his brother's searching stare.

"Angier. Do you fight, like us, growling and snapping and snarling, feeling the joy of flesh bruising and breaking under your fingers?" He reached up and brushed soft fingers along Alfred's swollen lip. "Or do you fuck, pleasure mixed with pain and hands bruising?"

Frozen by Freddie's odd behavior and the curious, intent light in his eyes, Alfred can only whisper, "We do... we fight, then we fuck."

At the casual vulgarity, Freddie smiled, predatory. "If he has that, then so will I--we fight, therefore there is more." And he leaned forward, quick as a snake, to cover Alfred's bruised lips with his own, the kiss angry but passion-filled. Freddie's eyes, when he broke the kiss, were huge and blurred. "I can taste him on your lips...where else can I taste him?" His lips were red with Alfred's blood, the split lip from Angier's teeth reopened. He licked Alfred's blood from his lips and smiled again.

Shocked yet intrigued, Alfred realized that he had two choices. He could destroy what he had with his brother for Angier's passion, which if occasionally painful was a clean, clear passion. Or he could surrender to his brother, surrender to the dark, murky, sensual exploration he knew Freddie could give him--and destroy everything he was building with Angier.

As with much else in his life, there really was no choice. As his brother slowly undressed him, replacing Angier's marks and scent with his own, Alfred gave in to his brother's darker passion... and let himself fall. Their coupling was wild and rough, appealing to Alfred's darker nature, flooding him with pleasure he'd thought only to find with Robert. He surrendered to it gladly, and his brother's smile in return was worth the pain incurred.

Yet lying together, bodies sated, Alfred felt no peace, no joy in what they had done. And he knew that once again, the secret he had given his life to keep would ask more than he would have thought to give. If pleasure was all he could have, then that would be his goal--for happiness would never be his, not so long as the Pact existed. He sighed, and turned into the heat of his brother's body; and mourned silently for Angier, and for their fleeting joy.

**********

Alfred Borden had a secret. One that he held from everyone he knew--and one that held him from everyone he loved.


End file.
